Being A Father and A Son
by charlie7694
Summary: As the mother of the 14 year old Charles Xavier dies, his social-worker looks for his father. Bad, that Erik Lehnsherr never got to know that he has a son. Now they have to live together and build up a relationship they never wanted. Not a easy task for the stubborn father and son. (Father/Son-Relationship)
1. New Beginnings

_Soo, finally I managed to start a story where Erik is Charles' father. Be nice please. English isn't my first language._

_I hope you like the story and if yes then I gonna to continue!_

_So have fun _

**CHAPTER 1: NEW BEGINNINGS**

As Erik heard the first time that he had a son, he stayed quiet. Then he burst out in laughter.

The social worker, a woman, wasn't pleased. She was one of these people who loved their job and especially these kids she was working with. It looked like she was used to having such conversations but she still looked not older than thirty and was just since 6 years a social worker, so she hadn't expected to hear laughter but life is full of surprises…

You would think in her job she should have already experienced a such situation but no she didn't.

Still, she was a professional. Everything she was able to do to show her dissatisfaction was by raising her right eyebrow.

It turned out one of these 'kids' was his fourteen year old son.

He still laughed.

He and being a father? Having a son? That was really ridiculous! More than ridiculous! That was absurd!

"You're kidding, right?" he asked her under laughter.

For a moment he really thought she would turn her serious mask down and say 'Of course I am joking! Who comes into a house and announces his owner that he has a kid?'

But she didn't laugh. There wasn't even a blinker. Her hands laid on the papers in her lap.

Erik stopped laughing. He wrinkled his forehead and blinked.

It was quiet now in the room.

As this woman, Miss Darcy, called him and asked him if she could come to his house because of urgent case, he didn't protest. She wanted to talk about a child. It was something she couldn't discuss at the phone. So he said her that he was home and that she could come.

Erik thought that she wanted to talk about this abused kid who lived in the front house of his place. The parents of this kid were kind people but also very strict. There were a lot of shouts coming from the house but which parent didn't scream at his kid.

However, as the situation escalated the neighbors called child's services. The parents turned out to be abusive. The kid was taken away.

So Erik thought she was talking about _'this'_ kid and not about _'his'_ kid.

After she came to his house he lead her into the living-room- She sat opposite of him and stared at him and he couldn't but just stare back.

Suddenly the room was filled with strain.

'No, that couldn't be true!' He thought as Miss Darcy laid the papers in her hands in front of him on the coffee table.

She opened carefully the file and right in front of him stared a smiling boy in a school-uniform at him. He wore a white shirt and over the shirt was a cream red pullover. The pullover had a school-badge.

Behind him were trees and an old building. Looks like a school. An expensive school.

Yes, the kid was obviously rich… Erik didn't like rich kids. They were too spoilt., have always been and would always be.

Erik couldn't remember any rich woman he went out with. Well… there could one woman be from his past but she wasn't a mother and would never be. If she would have been pregnant then she would have got rid of it before she would kept it.

Erik was sure of it.

"There must be a mistake. I mean… this kid can't be mine. I just can't have a kid…" He took his head in hands and tried to massage it. He turned his eyes away and looked then at the woman.

"Why are you saying that? Aren't you able to procreate yourself… ?" She asked carefully.

"What? No! I mean, yes I am able to have children, but this is to… crazy!" Now Erik looked very desperate.

"Who's the mother anyway. If I don't know her then yeah… but if I know her, what I really don't expect then-" As Erik turned his gaze back down at the file for the mother's name he stocked.

No, this couldn't be.

"Well, sir. Do you know her?" But the question of Miss Darcy was superfluous. The widen eyes told her enough. The kid was obviously the child's father.

Erik couldn't believe his eyes. Sharon Xavier was the mother. The same woman of who he thought would never want to have any children. How is that possible. And next to the mother's was also listed the father's name. The father's name was his name. Erik Lehnsherr.

They met each other years ago in the University. Their relationship was never a good one but it wasn't bad either. They went out for three years until they decided to go apart. Sharon moved back to New York and Erik moved for a while to Heidelberg in Germany and travelled then through Europe. He even stayed for some years in France and Russian until he was offered a job in America.

Erik knew Sharon wouldn't lie and he knew he is the father of this kid. Sharon didn't just sleep around. She was many things: a spoilt woman and she even drank sometimes too much (later he would learn that she started to drink more than _a little_), but she never was the person for one -nightstands.

He was without a doubt the father. But still… there was left only one question.

"Why did she kept him?" Erik asked.

"Excuse me?" The social worker blinked in disbelief. This question was really unexpected.

"I asked why did she keep him? I mean… Sharon wasn't a mother and she never wanted any children. Her life goal was to stay away from any kind of things which involved them. I… I just do not understand."

"My respect Mr. Lehnsherr but that's not what this is about. It doesn't matter anymore. The main topic is her son. He doesn't have any relatives anymore. You're his only relative and Miss Xavier didn't say anything about who should take custody of her son in the case of her death."

She paused and took one more breath.

"Mr Lehnsherr, I understand that it must be a shock for you and that it is not best situation to learn you have a child but you're his only choice for not getting into the system. Now, it is really important for you to think really good about the choice you are going to make. You have to understand that boy's future life depends on you. It is a really hard decision but you are his father and he is your son. That is not going to change any day. Do you understand?"

Erik looked at her expressionless. Then he turned his gaze again down and looked at the boy.

He had definitely his blue eyes and the rest of the boy's looks was Sharon's.

His eyes wandered to his own name. There stood black on white Erik Lehnsherr.

Erik's hand covered now his mouth. "How did you find me? I mean… you have just my name. The last time I saw Sharon was in London. After London, I travelled through whole Europe and stayed even in Russian. I just… How? How did you find me?"

"Well, it was a hardship, I must admit that. But luckily for us, Miss Xavier left your old address. After that I had just to follow your footsteps and here we are now." She smiled now gently.

Erik chuckled. "Since when does a social worker have that much time for a single kid?"

"I'm young. I'm ambitious."

Erik said nothing. Yes, she was really ambitious. More than ambitious.

He looked back at the photo. Fourteen. The kid must be fourteen now. He didn't look fourteen. Maybe twelve, but not fourteen.

This was really ridiculous.

Unlike Sharon, he wasn't against having a child but he didn't want them either. That was nothing for him. He wasn't a father. He didn't know what to do with them. That was the reason why he still didn't have any children and why he ended always a relationship when one of his girlfriends started talking about having sometime children in the future.

Children just didn't like him. That was all. It was nothing personally.

Well… now it was.

"I can't." Erik pressed finally out.

"What do you want to say by I can't? What is the problem?"

"I'm not a father. I don't know anything about children or even teenagers."

"The most fathers don't know anything about fatherhood at the beginning."

"They don't like me."

"How do you know that?"

"Because…, because… I… "Erik waved with his hand in the air," I just can't. I don't know…"

He sighed frustrated and covered his face in his hands.

Miss Darcy stayed professional not determinate to give up. "Listen," she started carefully and without a doubt in her voice," I know it is a difficult decision but like I said: Not one father is prepared to be one when he becomes one. Do you understand? What would you have done if you knew back in the past that your girlfriend is pregnant?"

Erik looked back up again. "Well, I would have stayed with her. It would have been cowardly to run away. It's also my responsibility." He answered truthfully.

"And today it's not any different. The only difference is that your son is fourteen years old and not a baby anymore."

"Yeah... you're right."

"So are you going to take care of him, Mr Lehnsherr?" Miss Darcy asked.

Erik looked at her blankly. That was really easy for her to ask. She didn't have just found out that she was a parent and this since fourteen years!

He sighed frustrated again. This couldn't just happen!

She expected from him to make a life decision. He could try at least. If it doesn't work out he could just… give the kid back! Nobody said that he had to keep him.

But he knew better. The boy wasn't just some piece of clothes or book which you could give back if you didn't like it.

This was a human being!

He looked back at the photo. The kid had his eyes but they were more, more like… they were just a shade bluer. Just like his mother's eyes. His mother.

What would she have to say if she was still alive? He knew the answer.

She loved children.

She would have loved this boy even Erik didn't know him. She always wanted grandchildren.

But Erik wasn't his mother.

His mother was his role model. She was an unbelievable woman! He loved her very much and still did even she was dead.

The social-worker was right. This boy was his responsibility. He should have known that this would happen one day, really!

How many girlfriends did he had already?

He had a son now and he had to take care of him now.

Actually he knew that he hadn't to decide yet. He could wait and think about this situation. The social-worker wanted obviously just to press him. That was good…

"Okay." Erik finally told her. His glance, firm on hers.

The woman smiled triumphal. He knew she planned it along by pressurizing him!

The she took back the papers and took a photo out of it. It was one of the boy, the same as in front of the file. Of his son…

He put up his eyebrows.

"That's for you." She explained to his question glance. Then she hold out the photo for him to take.

Carefully he took it out of her hand.

Then she began to explain what papers have to be signed and that she would bring him tomorrow.

Since his name was already in the birth certification there weren't that much papers to sign. They were just for the formal case.

Then Miss Darcy said the first time the name of the boy. Charles Francis Xavier

Charles Xavier was his son's name. Very British.

If he had an English accent and liked to drink tea, then his son was a cliché. He betted Sharon would had made him like that. She loved clichés.

Additionally, Miss Darcy explained that Charles was already in his third high school year and that he would have to visit school. Nothing Erik didn't know. Of course the kid went to school. He was fourteen years old after all.

Except the third high school.

So the boy was smart. That was a surprise.

After Miss Darcy finished her speech, said goodbye and was accompanied out by Erik, the first thing he did was to poor himself a glass of scotch and falling on the couch. He stared on his bright white lamp. It was a cold light. A modern light. Not one of this yellow and warm lights.

He took one more sip of his glass scotch.

What a day…

As he woke up in the morning and went jogging for a long session on his free day he really didn't excepted to get to know in the next hours that he had a son with a woman who he last seen fifteen years ago!

He was sure of it that nobody saw that coming when they got to know that they had a kid! What did people normally do when they were suddenly confronted by parenthood?

Maybe the internet had answers for his question…, usually the internet had all answers for weird situations like that.

After one more sip he glanced towards the watch in the kitchen area. It was almost midnight. And as his glance felled on his scotch, his first thought was: How the hell should he get drunk in the future?!

There would be living now a kid in his house. A teenager. Oh boy…

Erik swallowed and drank the rest of the glass scotch.

Teenagers love to experiment and especially they loved drinking alcohol! He should know it! He was once a teenager!

But the boy on the photo looked innocent and he was smart. Smart boys didn't drink alcohol. But otherwise boys like that had it easier to make it a secret when they made stupid things. And nobody would think that they were after all not that innocent human beings like they claimed to be. Especially the rich ones.

Erik's gaze darkened.

As he reached for the bottle to poor himself more scotch, he decided to make rules.

Yes, rules. That was what he needed.

That was what parents did. Making rules.

His father would be proud of him. The guy loved rules. Surprisingly he wasn't a such rough guy like Erik was. And he wasn't strict either.

Actually he was a really kind man. Now Erik wondered if his father never suspected if Erik was following his rules. Erik guessed not. The rules were actually really weird and not real rules. They were just named rules as a joke and the rules themselves were also a joke.

His father loved jokes.

Erik missed him like he missed his mother. His mother.

He betted that if they knew that they were grand-parents they would have took the next flight to America and wouldn't have returned to Germany ever. So happy they would have been.

He smiled of this thought.

But then he dropped his smile. It didn't matter anymore. They were dead. They would never know that they had a grand-child. So he should stop to think about what they would have done now if they knew.

Erik knew better.

So rules…

He took a sip. His gaze fell on the expensive bottle. He should have taken a cheaper one for this drinking.

By the way…

Rule Number 1: No drinking of his scotch or anyone else scotch. And in general no drinking alcohol. It didn't matter if it was an accident (Erik knew these '_accidents'_).

Sooo… what should be number two? Number two, number two…

Hmm… he was really a great father already. Didn't even know number two.

For today it was enough alcohol. He took the bottle and the glass and brought them back to their place. As he placed the scotch into the cupboard he noticed that he needed a lock for this door where he storage the alcohol.

You never knew what was on a teenager's mind. He needed a shopping list…

He just hoped the boy wasn't one of these _'teenagers'_.

Apropos shopping list… oh, and the boy also needed a room!

…

…

Goddammit!

That was too much for a day! He pulled his hair!

He should really go to sleep. Tomorrow is also a day. The woman would bring the kid just by afternoon. So he had a little more time... or not.

But he was too tired after all these information…

At the end he decided to go to bed. It would't help him after all if he would stay awake the whole night.

This night he dreamed the first times after all these years about his parents and Sharon.

Sharon, the woman, who never dared to inform him that he had a son…

_I hope you had fun and review if you liked it ;)_


	2. My Father The Serial-Killer

_Hello everybody! _

_Sorry it took so long but I had another story I had to write and I want to take time to look of there is someone who wants to read this story._

_First of all, thank you for your reviews __ I am glad you like it._

_Hmm… I really don't know what to say more so…_

_Have fun with reading and don't forget to tell me what you thing about it! English isn't my first language, so please be nice __ If you want something specifically to happen in this story then tell me and I will see if I can take it on ;)_

_So, and now have fun!_

**CHAPTER 2: MY FATHER THE SERIAL-KILLER**

Charles hated his father from the first moment Miss Darcy, his social-worker, told him he had one. No, wait! He started to hate him as she found him! It didn't matter that he didn't even knew him. He just hated him! Charles didn't want any father in his life. Never wanted one and would never want one. He already had one and this one was enough. Thank you very much. Fathers weren't on his wish-list for this Christmas.

He looked out of Miss Darcy's car. Snow was falling on the streets of New York. It was the end of November. It was cold outside and Charles didn't even have his warm jacket on. He cursed himself for not wearing warmer clothes.

One reason more why he needed someone to take care of him, Miss Darcy said. His low mood reached by her words a new point. Just because he wore the wrong clothes didn't mean that he was incapable of taking care of himself! A lot of adults wore the wrong clothes during cold or warm weather. That was nothing special. And they didn't get a babysitter, did they?

He didn't need someone who had to take _care_ of him. In the past he always took care of himself and why should that be changed? Charles didn't understand. His mother never cared and especially not his money-grubbing stepfather. She only paid attention to him if he didn't behave or when his so great stepfather, she was so fond of, told her what a spoilt child he was. Then she was always complaining about him for not being polite or being an unthankful son.

He told Miss Darcy, as she looked for his father, that he could live in the mansion by himself and if she was so worried, she could send someone once in the month to look for him if he was still alive. But his so _great_ social-worker didn't want to know anything about it. She searched further and found _finally_ (in her eyes) his father.

Charles already knew that his protest wouldn't be heard by this woman but at least he tried. Well… this trying was just an angry speech which involved more foul-language than his dead mother could bear but he was just a human-being, too.

He knew that he would have to deal with the social-system from the moment on he found his mother dead on the carpet, before even this ambitious and overzealous woman arrived at the mansion for taking him with her. The also ambitious and overzealous police had called her before Charles could even think of running away.

Maybe he should have run away as he found his dead mother and _then_ called the ambulance and the police, which came with the paramedics. But in that moment he didn't thought that his mother might be dead. He suspected it but he wasn't sure. Deep down, he still believed that she just fell asleep on the carpet again and needed just a gastric lavage like the other four times she passed out on the floor in her study.

But this time it was different. Her doctors already told her how dangerous it could be if she lost control over her alcohol-consume again. So it shouldn't have been a surprise for Charles that she died. Especially if you knew how highly she was fond of the alcohol…

As Miss Darcy told him that his father agreed to take care of him, Charles was shocked. He didn't think about this possibility for a moment. Actually he never really thought about his father since he was eight years old. In the past he would have often asked his mother who his father was, where he was, what he did and if he would ever come and looking for Charles. But this was a time when Charles started to ask himself why everyone around him had a father except of Charles. His mother would say at the beginning that he was living in another country and that she didn't spoke to him for years. As his questions started to be more she would just snap at him and tell him he should leave it.

As he grew older he understood that not everyone had a father and that in some people's life a father was just a man who makes your mother pregnant and… well, that was it. There were of course more reasons why some people didn't have a father. But in those others categories, Charles didn't fit in.

And then, suddenly, Miss Darcy announced that she was going to look for his father. She explained to Charles that the man was probably his only chance for not getting into the system. Not that Charles had a problem with that option.

Couldn't be worse than back home, right?

And really, how could this man believe so easily that he had a son?! That was something Charles didn't understand. It was still a puzzle to Charles. Maybe the guy was a pervert. Yes, this must be it. Definitely, the guy was a pervert. Who else took a child into his house without taking a DNA-test for making sure that this child was really related to you? Charles didn't mind that the guy knew his mother in his college-years and that his mother didn't sleep around. His _'father'_ hadn't heard anything from his mother since what? Since 15 years? And now he just believed so easily that Charles was his son?

That was idiotically in Charles' eyes. But nobody cared what Charles had to say, so here he was in Miss Darcy's black car, on a journey to a man who was _'supposed'_ to be his father.

As they stopped by a traffic light, Miss Darcy looked into the rearview mirror. He refused to sit next to the driver-sit. He didn't want to be nice today. She wasn't nice to him so he didn't have to be nice to her.

After a long moment of staring Charles had enough.

"What?" He asked her sharply. Normally he wasn't that rude but he was sitting in a car and driving to a man who might be a child-abuser. But who cared? The main thing was that the social-worker got what she wanted.

Every decision which was made was against his will so he had a right to be rude.

"Don't look so darkly. I already met him yesterday and we talked just this morning with each other on the phone. He's a really nice man." She told him calmly.

The traffic-light turned green. She went on.

"You just met him yesterday. How can you know that he's nice?" Charles grumbled and looked again out of the window. The sky was really dark today. Probably a snow-storm was coming…

"Because I made a research."

"Oh… a research. You know that nobody writes in his papers that he's a serial-killer."

She sighed, her eyes always carefully on the street. "Charles, we already talked about that. He's not a serial-killer. If you so concerned about your safety…"

"I'm not. I just don't want bad influence."

"… then let me tell you that I checked him before I even called him. He's a college- professor and I also managed to talk with his co-workers. His records are clean. He has maybe an attitude, what I think you got from him…" Charles wheezed, "… but he is a really good man. His high records are his speaking for him."

She looked quick into the rearview mirror and smiled at Charles, but he choose to ignore her.

"You know, still waters run deep."

"Don't worry, Charles. I know how to make my job. Trust me, you are in good hands."

But that was the point. Charles didn't trust her. He didn't know her. She was just a social-worker Charles had to get along with because his mother died. He knew the woman for what? Three weeks?

Not enough time in Charles' eyes for trusting someone. For all he knew the woman could be also a serial-killer. Who knew? Maybe she and his _father_ did plan it all along for just killing him…

That was something Charles did trust. His imagination. He liked that better.

Miss Darcy was too optimistic. He knew that from the beginning she started to look for his father.

And now she was certain that Charles and his father would be a perfect family. He betted that was, what she thought.

Why was she that way, anyway? He always thought that social-workers are revised and frustrated with their job. Maybe she was just not yet in that stage… That was really unfortunate for Charles. Why did he get an optimistic social-worker? Why not a kid who really needed an ambitious person in his life for making it better?

Well, the answer was easy: Because life wasn't fair. It never was. Charles learned it long ago.

As the car suddenly stopped and Miss Darcy unbuckled her seatbelt Charles realized that they arrived. Miss Darcy turned this time around and smiled at Charles but he refused to look at her and looking outside wasn't an option for him anymore. If he would look outside then he would have to face the reality. And reality meant that he would live now with his father. That was something he didn't look forward.

Besides, it was cold outside. Too cold.

He raise his hood of his dark sweatshirt on his head . It felt comfortable in this situation.

Miss Darcy opened her door and stepped outside. "Come out, Charles. It's time." She said before she closed the door behind her. Charles looked in her direction as she went towards the house. Obviously his father's house. It looked good. Like the neighborhood.

So his father had a good profession and a great house, additionally Miss Darcy claimed him to be a good human-being. But that didn't exlude the possibility for his father being a serial-killer. Actually, these points did speak for being a murderer. Didn't they want to look like normal people so no one suspects anything?

Miss Darcy ringed at the door and turned around to Charles. Her hand gestured to him for coming out of the car. And she was still patient with Charles. From the beginning she refused to give in Charles' bad mood. That was impressive. But he didn't care.

He didn't want to get out of the car. Again, he turned his glance away from window and choose to inspect his shoes. Somehow it made fun ignoring her. It made him feel better.

These moments gave him the feeling for having his life in his hands.

As the bell-ring rang, Erik jumped. Now was the time. He knew it. They arrived. His son was now just a few meters away of him, standing in front of the door and waiting with his social-worker.

Of course, it could also be the postman but the poor guy has been already here. He handed Erik a package over before he disappeared quickly.

Erik had scared the poor man away. He was so nervous since his phone call with Miss Darcy. So, when he heard the ring he thought that was them even it was too early. Then he opened the door and found the postman smiling at him. For a moment Erik really thought that the man was his son.

What a ridiculous thought. Fortunately he got himself together before he glared at the man dangerously and scared the man away.

Erik was certain that he would never see him again. It happened once before. Long story.

It wasn't really Erik's fault that he scared him away. Okay, maybe it was his, but how could the man had the nerves arriving on the day, Erik would meet the first time in his life his son?

His son… It still sounded strange. After the phone call of Miss Darcy, Erik tried to say it aloud that he had a son. But he quit after he realized how idiotically he must be looking.

As he woke up this morning he didn't realize what was different. He figured it out as Miss Darcy called him. Then he realized what happened yesterday. What actually happened fifteen years ago in college. The only reaction he got from himself was a chuckle.

He was a father…, he was a father…, he was a father and he had a son. A son. Oh God, he had a son! It seemed so surreal.

How was it even possible that the child-services just handed him a child over? Normally these things didn't go on so quickly, did they? He found out just a day ago that he has a child and agreed to take him in. And on the next day he got to take him in?

But maybe _because_ he agreed to take care of him, the things got so smoothly. Why _did _he even agree so quickly to take care of this brat? Erik really didn't have a clue. It frustrated him that he didn't even know why…

Did he even wanted to have this child? He didn't even know him… But when babys are born you don't know them either and you still take care of them, right?

Erik knew that he must be idiot for thinking this way but he just found out a day ago that he had a son so it was allowed for him to be an idiot. Everyone deserved a right to freak out in a such crazy situation.

But now were not the time for freaking out and being a teenage who shirked himself out of his responsibilities. This job had now his son.

He took a breath.

'_Stay calm Erik.'_

Erik put himself together and went down to open the house-door. He took a last breath before he opened the door.

In front of him stood Miss Darcy in her warm clothes. She was obviously freezing. It was cold outside and the cold air went immediately into the house.

Erik realized that he began to freeze.

"Good afternoon Mr. Lehnsherr. It's nice to meet you again." She held out a hand and Erik shook it, but his eyes were searching for the boy, who somehow wasn't at the woman's side.

Miss Darcy caught his mental absence and explained.

"I am sorry. But Charles is still sitting in the car." Erik looked over to the car.

"Why?"

"I have to warn you. Lately, he's not in a really good mood. You have to understand his mother died just three weeks ago and he was the one who found her." She sighed.

Erik swallowed at this thought. He knew how that felt like.

"And now he is forced to live with someone he doesn't even know. It is a difficult situation for him and nothing against you. So, please, don't take it personally." She explained and smiled professionally the whole time. Maybe too professionally…

But Erik didn't pay much attention to her. His eyes were fixed on the boy in the car. The boy sat in the backseat and it seemed like he wanted to disappear in his seat. He didn't even look up. His hood was hiding his face.

"Mr. Lehnsherr?" Miss Darcy tried to gain his attention.

"Y-Yes? I am sorry but what did you say?" Erik looked at her again. He was really nervous.

She smiled gently. "I asked you if you can help me with the baggage. While you do it, I am going to force your son out of the car."

"O-Of course."

Erik went quickly to the car and unloaded the back of the car. There weren't many things. "Is that all?" He asked. Didn't teenagers have normally more things?

"Yes, that would be all. Charles didn't pack more from the house. He said he didn't need more things." She answered him while she opened the door.

Without asking more questions, Erik took the baggage and put them into the living room. As he wanted to go out again he was surprised to see Miss Darcy and his son already standing in the floor. The door closed behind them.

Well, that went quick.

Erik looked at the boy. The first thing he caught was that the kid wasn't really tall. He barely reached Erik to the shoulders. He was even some inches smaller. Weren't fourteen years old children supposed to be taller?

Okay, he wasn't that small but still. Maybe he didn't hit the puberty yet…? Something Erik really wished for. Children were already difficult to handle but children in puberty…?

His son's brown hair was sticking out from the hood and was covering his eyes but Erik could still see that the boy avoided his glance.

Miss Darcy beside him gave him a shake but Charles was still stubbornly looking in any other direction than his father.

She sighed and looked back at Erik. "Don't we want to sit down first?"

"Of course." Erik cleared his throat and led them into the living room to sit down.

Miss Darcy removed her warm coat. Charles stayed in his thin grey coat. He was still cold and if his 'father' is going to turn out a serial-killer then he won't have to look for his coat when he has to get away.

They sat down. Charles besides Miss Darcy and across them Erik. The Erik suddenly stood up.

"I am sorry. Do you want some warm drinks? It was really cold outside. I know that you came with the car but still…" He explained awkwardly.

"Yes, please. A tea would be nice." Miss Darcy smiled gently up to him and turned then towards Charles. "What do you think Charles? You do like tea, don't you?"

Charles was looking out of the window on his left side and didn't give any signs of reaction to her words.

Charles knew that the woman knew his fondness of tea. He betted that she wanted to lure him out and getting him involved into a conversation. But it wouldn't work. He wouldn't give in.

Erik nodded and went quickly into the kitchen before he returned with three hot tea cups and set them on the coffee table before them. Then he sat down and rubbed his hands.

Meanwhile Miss Darcy took a cup of tea and took a sip before she drew her attention to the papers she took out as Erik was getting the tea.

"Thank you for the tea, Mr. Lehnsherr."

"You welcome."

Erik tried to hide his nervous. Somehow it was easier when the boy didn't pay any attention to them. He didn't know why.

He knew that he should be upset that the boy didn't show any interest to him however he wasn't. And that was what bothered him.

"I brought the necessary papers for you to sign. It won't take much time."

"Of course." Erik nodded and turned towards the papers which Miss Darcy laid on the table in front of him.

She began explain the necessary things and showed him where to sign. Erik was sure that buying a car was much easier. It was even easier. He had to know. Recently, he finally decided to buy a new car and after this bought he knew he would never again buy a new car. Even his job was easier. And after all, he worked in a university!

But was he thinking again? The kid wasn't a car! What was wrong with him today?

While they discussed all the papers he had sign, Erik took over and over a glance to the boy. He was still sitting still and didn't move. Erik wished he would put down this hood so he could take a better look at him but it didn't look like the kid was determined to do such kind of thing.

Oh yes. The kid really didn't want to be here.

As they finished, Miss Darcy turned towards Charles and put quickly but gently the hood down. The only reaction Charles gave, was a frown but he didn't turn around.

"Charles…" She warned him. And finally the kid turned around and looked for the first time at Erik.

'_Jep,'_ Erik thought as he saw the young face, _' The kid really didn't hit the puberty, yet.'_

Erik smiled awkwardly and held out a hand. "Hello. It's nice to meet you."

Charles looked at him suspiciously but didn't make a move to take Erik's hand. It passed a moment until Miss Darcy decided to interfere.

"Charles, don't you want to say something?" She looked at him expectantly. Charles looked then at her and looked back at Erik.

"Are you a serial-killer?" Charles asked him.

"Charles!" Miss Darcy complained angrily. Erik just put up his eyebrows and looked at Miss Darcy. He decided finally to take his hand down.

Then he noticed: His son had really a British accent.

"You look like one, you know." Charles continued.

Erik really did expect a lot of things but not this. He chuckled lightly. This couldn't get better…

"Charles, really!" Miss Darcy looked back at Erik. "I am really sorry, Mr. Lehnsherr. But Charles here has a really bright imagination."

It wasn't really the right thing to say, but what did you say when someone insulted another person being a murderer?

"What? He looks like a serial-killer. I told you that he would turn out to be a serial-killer, didn't I?"

Charles didn't look even guilty about what he said.

Erik raised an eyebrow. "Well, thank you." He said, "Thanks to your observation, I know now why people are getting so quickly scared of me."

Charles shrugged. "You welcome…" He murmured.

Before it started getting uncomfortable quiet again, Erik decided to go on with the conversation:

"So… Charles," Erik tasted his name, "Miss Darcy here said that you are in your third high-school year. You must like the school."

Charles just shrugged.

"Which subjects are your favorite?" Erik really, really, reaally tried but this situation was just too strange.

Charles shrugged again but answered as he caught the sharp look his social-worker threw him.

"Biology…"

"Biology, hmm? Interesting subject." Actually Erik didn't know anything about biology. Sure, he knew something about first-aid but at this point his knowledge ended. He was an engineer after all and was also really good in history but biology…?

It looked like he and his son were two different persons. Sure, Erik just got to know him but something said Erik that his time with Charles would be more difficult than he expected.

The boys eyes were looking at him. They were blue. Just like Erik's. At least anything that they had in common.

Weird…

First the kid refused to look at him and now he couldn't take his eyes of him. It would be better if there were any emotions in his eyes. But, hey! At least he looked now at him. That was a progress, wasn't it?

"I think, I should leave now." Miss Darcy announced out of nowhere and packed the papers.

"Already?" Erik asked confused.

Both, father and son were looking at her. But in contrast to his father, Charles was angry and not confused.

Did she really wanted to leave him with this serial-killer?

"Yes. I' afraid, but I have a case which can't want. Besides I would just be a bother to you." She stood up with her bag. "It's better to let you alone so you can talk freely."

"Charles, don't say anything." She glanced at him as he began to open up his mouth. He definitely wanted to say something about serial-killers.

He shut his mouth up and glared again out of the window.

"Well, okay. Let's bring me you to the door." Erik stood up.

"Thank you very much." She smiled at him and turned then towards Charles.

"Goodbye, Charles. Be nice, okay? And with you want to talk then you know my number."

As Charles didn't respond, she sighed heavily and nodded gently towards Erik.

They went out of the living-room letting Charles alone. As they arrived in the floor before the door, Erik took Miss Darcy's coat and helped her into it.

"If you have any questions or anything is wrong, then don't be shy to call, okay?" She said to Erik as she closed the buttons of the coat.

She must have noticed Erik's growing discomfort and maybe his little panic-attack as he realized that he would be soon alone with his son. God, he didn't know anything about children or teenagers.

"And don't forget, it won't be easy at the beginning. You just get to know each other and don't press anything. You should take it slowly." Miss Darcy explained gently.

Erik nodded and smiled a little.

"Oh, and before I forget, Charles has still the key for his house. As we already discussed, you are in custody of his property until he turns eighteen years old. The second key for the house is in the envelope by the papers I left for you. The first key is for Charles if he wants some of his private things to take. "

"Why a second key?"

"Because Charles claimed he lost his key, what I don't believe. He may return to the mansion if he wants to run away-"

"Run away?!" Erik asked shocked. The day really couldn't get any better.

"Yes, run away. The kids in his change tend to go back to the house the lived in before. So, in case of this possibility you have a second key, so you can look for him there but don't worry. If he returns to the mansion then maybe just for few hours. I don't think that he would run away."

Why did she say it then, anyway? He swallowed and leaned on the wall behind him.

"I am sorry for concerning you but I had to warn you, just in case."

"That's what you learn in your schooling for social-working?" He massaged disbelieving his hair with his one hand.

"No." She answered, "But I have experience."

Her encouraging smile wasn't helping but if he thought about it, nothing could help him in the moment.

"Okay…" That was all he could tell her.

But she just smiled again.

"Good, I have to go now. Don't forget to call me if you have any questions."

She took her bag and shacked hands with him.

"Of course, thank you." He smiled and opened the door for her.

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Erik waited until she got into her car, started the motor and drove away.

He breathed out and crossed his arms in front of his chest. It was really cold. Even through his pullover he was freezing. The sky was already dark and white snow was laying everywhere. No wonder, it was still snowing. A sign that it was winter.

The lights in other houses were already on and the lights of New York's skyline were already shining brightly.

'_What time was it, anyway?'_

Erik looked at his watch and oh boy, it was already seven o'clock in the evening. They arrived when? Half past four? Did it really took so much time to sign some papers? But Miss Darcy was also explaining him the papers so…

If he admitted, he didn't pay much attention to what she said to him. He was more concentrated on the boy who didn't want to look at him.

The boy… Erik closed his eyes.

He was just a few minutes alone with his son and he already forgot that his son was in the living-room waiting for him. Wasn't he a great father?

Erik closed the door behind him and went into the living-room. He blinked. Something was not right.

He looked around. The room was empty just like the seat his son was sitting in.

Erik began to panic again. The kid managed already running away! How was that even possible?

Before he could get a real panic-attack the kid appeared again in the living room.

Erik blinked again and stared disbelieving at Charles.

"Where is the restroom?" Charles asked.

First Erik thought he didn't hear right but caught himself quick.

"Next to the entrance in the floor by the stairs is the toilet." He explained and let the boy going.

As he heard the boy shut, Erik let a breath. He should really calm down. Panicking won't give much.

Why was he even reacting this way? Normally, he wasn't that nervous. Actually his friends were always complaining about his set character.

He let out sigh and decided to take the baggage into the boy's room. Some movement would make him loose his nervousness.

Then he went upstairs into his son's new room.

While Erik was busy getting the baggage upstairs, Charles was sitting on the closed toilet seat in the restroom.

He didn't really need to use the restroom but he needed some time for him. He wanted to be alone

and didn't want to be stared at like a lost puppy. A puppy what was getting killed soon by a serial-killer.

Charles knew that he was being ridiculous but the guy really looked like a murderer. Wasn't he supposed to be university-professor?

He breathed calmly out.

Behind the door he could hear something being lifted up and being carried upstairs. The steps were loud at first but quieted down.

Charles supposed that his father went upstairs. His father. It was so unreal!

Some days ago he didn't have a father and now, out of nowhere he had suddenly one! Charles still didn't believe that this man was his father. Not until they took a parental-test.

They didn't even look alike! Miss Darcy claimed this morning, as she picked he up, that they have the same eyes. Now, Charles thought, that she was color-blind.

They didn't have the same eyes! Charles eyes had a much brighter blue than this man.

Why didn't anyone besides him see that they were not related?!

The man was much taller than Charles! Charles was a squirt! He has always been! And he didn't believe that in the puberty he would grow much more…

And even if it would turn out that this man was really his father, Charles wouldn't want him. Fathers and mothers were something for little children and Charles was already fourteen years old. He was going to graduate, soon! He didn't want one. He wouldn't know what to do with him.

Parents weren't his specialty.

As Charles heard footsteps coming down he stood up, turned the water on and splashed some of it on his face. After he stared at himself for a moment in the mirror (He really looked tired. No wonder. The older boy next to his bed was showing him his tattoos and told him every story behind the tattoos. It was actually really fascinating.), he turned the water off and decided to come out.

His father was maybe thinking already that the toilet swallowed him.

Charles walked out and looked around. The lights were on. The winter was really coming.

He loved the winter. In winter he could cover up his body so nobody had to see his pale legs and hands. Charles hated his pale body. In summer he would like a ghost or something he could not describe… It was terrible and if he would go out into the sun then he was burning all red.

Not even suntan crème helped. It was frustrating!

But in the winter neither of these things would happen. It felt comfortable, even if it was cold. Charles would match to the white snow and it wouldn't look awkward like in the summer when he would go around all pale.

Charles heard a sound from the living-room and walked into it. He noticed that his baggage was nowhere in sight. He burrowed his forehead.

As he arrived there, the man who claimed to be his father wasn't there, what confused Charles. Didn't he hear a sound coming from here?

Maybe it was coming from under the room. Maybe in the basement was his father preparing for killing him?

Yeah, that made sense.

"Hello. There you are." Erik came into the living from a room, what was the kitchen as Charles looked nearer.

The man was drying his hands with a towel.

Did he just wash up all the blood he got on him while Charles was away?

"Yeah, there I am…" Charles replied.

This was really awkward. They both stood just there and didn't know what to say to each other. A conversation to a plant was probably easier than this. Charles was sure of it.

"You can call me Erik."

"Okay…"

Silence again. Erik didn't know what to say and Charles didn't want anything to say. He didn't even have anything to say.

"Do you want to look at your new room?" Erik asked carefully and folded the towel in his hands together.

Charles shrugged. There was nothing to do, so why not? It wasn't like he had anything to do today.

He didn't plan to run away and this man here didn't look like he was going to kill him. Yet.

"Okay, then let's go." Erik smiled and putted the towel back into the kitchen before he showed Charles the way to his room. On the way he explained everything to him about the house and where Erik's room and study, the bathroom and some others room were. The house was bigger than it seemed.

He explained to Charles that he was living alone but had a girlfriend, whose name was Emma and that she would come today over for dinner. Charles suspected that she would stay for more than a dinner but it wasn't Charles' business.

Not that Charles was interested in that kind of information.

As they arrived in Charles' room (The baggage war already there.), the only thing he asked as first was, what in the basement was.

Erik stocked and looked like he didn't know what to say.

"The basement?" He asked, just to make sure he heard Charles right.

"Yeah, the basement. I mean what kind of serial-killer are you? Do you use knifes, ropes or guns?" Charles looked at him expectantly.

Erik was startled but caught himself and grinned then in the end. He looked on Charles down.

"Well, if I am going to tell you than it wouldn't be surprise, would it?"

Charles just shrugged and went towards the window. The dark blue curtains were open and he could see the other house next to Erik's. Also, he could see the street which was covered in snow just like the few trees in front of his window. It was dark outside now and the snow was still falling.

Charles smiled and turned around to look at Erik.

"I don't like surprises."

Erik grinned widely.

"I am afraid you have to be patient."

Charles didn't have anything to say and looked around. The room was like the rest of the house in a clean state and modern furnished. In Charles' room was a bed with a night table and a lamp, a desk with a chair and also a lamp and there was also a closer and bookshelves next to the desk. The furniture looked modern and maybe this was this reason why Charles thought that they looked new.

The carpet was just like the curtains dark and wallpapers had a shade lighter color.

It was a nice room just like the rest of the house Charles had seen.

Everything actually, looked new in this house. All of the lamps were made out of a light metal and the walls looked clean just like the couches and the television in the living-room. Also the rest-room was modern.

Charles could swear that he could still smell paint and glue.

Comparing it to the mansion, the house was really modern and new. The mansion was an old house just like its furniture. Of course there were installed modern technology but all in all it was an old fashioned house.

"Is everything alright with the room? Or do you need something?" Erik caught Charles' attention.

Charles looked at Erik and shook his head.

"Is this a no to the first or the second question?"

"A No to the second question."

"Well, okay then. Alright. I am going to make dinner. Like I said, my girlfriend is coming over soon. You don't have a problem with that, do you?"

"Nope."

"Okay. I let you then unpacking your things. If you need anything you can find me in the kitchen."

"Sure." Charles shrugged again.

Erik smiled a last time before he went out of the room and left the door open behind him.

Charles breathed out before him threw himself on his back on the bed.

He looked for a while up and turned than his head towards the window. The snow was still falling.

A snow storm was definitely coming. He had an instinct for such things. The lights of the opposite house were off. But the street-lights illuminated the whole street and the houses around them.

It looked actually beautiful. Not that Charles would ever say it out loud. He wasn't a girl.

He looked back to the opened door. The floor was also illuminated in light. Like his room.

Charles sat up and looked at his baggage. There wasn't much he took with him. Mainly books and clothes.

The photos he left behind. Not that there were much photos to take with him. His mother didn't take much photos of him. There were just a few of his kindergarten or school entrance. And some photos of him as a toddler. They were all made by a professional. They weren't quickly made photos when parents discovered their child doing something unexpected.

These kind of photos were made of him in the kindergarten or in the elementary school where the teachers loved their little pupils and wanted to take the moments of the kids in for the busy parents.

But like said, Charles didn't have much photos of this kind.

He laid down and turned on his side and bend his legs to his chest. He was so tired.

Now he noticed that he had still his coat on. It was somehow uncomfortable. He sat up again and took it off. The coat landed on the chair.

Charles also kicked his shoes off before laid his head on the pillow bend his legs back to his chest.

For a moment he looked out of the window before he closed his eyes and drifted off.

It was a long day after all.

The next time he awoke was as Erik called his name.

_So, I hope you liked the chapter and don't be shy to tell me ;)_


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